Crime and Punishment
by Avarice
Summary: Nowaki gets irritating when Hiroki's trying to grade papers, so Hiroki Takes Care of It.


It's been a while, but I have something! This fic is for the delightful Eike on the occasion of her birthday. We talked about this idea and then I wrote it in secret. HAPPY BIRTHDAY! :)

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**Crime and Punishment  
a Junjou Romantica (egoist) fic by Avarice**

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Hiroki ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it gently as he graded papers. It was, frankly, a thankless and never-ending task, but one no professor, no matter his standing, could get away from doing it.

The low sounds of the television hummed in the background as Nowaki watched a gameshow in his pajama pants, long legs stretched out on the couch.

It wasn't all together agreeable, as it _did_ cause him to look up and glance over a few times to see the blue and white flicker of light on Nowaki's features... but it wasn't terribly _un_pleasant, either. The fact that Nowaki was home, having a night off from the graveyard shift, was a rare comfort.

Hiroki turned the page on his current paper and corrected some lax punctuation with his trusty red felt-tipped pen. Sock-clad feet shuffled behind his chair.

"Hiro-san, would you like some tea?" Nowaki asked.

"Yes," Hiroki replied, checking a particular date against own research.

A few clangs in the kitchen made Hiroki's brow furrow as he worked, but soon enough a steaming cup of green tea appeared at his elbow. Hiroki took it without diverting his eyes from the paper, and sipped.

By and by, Hiroki became aware of the fact that the game show had been switched off. Nowaki puttered around, washing dishes and tidying up. However, Hiroki soon felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck, meaning Nowaki was standing right behind him.

Nowaki's arms came from either side of the chair to wrap around his waist, a chin landed on his shoulder, huffing warm breath on the shell of his ear, and Hiroki was starting to get distracted. He put up with it until one of Nowaki's hands slipped under the hem of his untucked shirt.

"Not now," he said curtly, turning a page.

"But Hiro-san," Nowaki said, pout all-too-evident in his voice, "we haven't had a night off together in _weeks_."

"Papers don't grade themselves," Hiroki answered.

"Can't you take a break?" Nowaki wheedled, turning his head and nuzzling Hiroki's cheek, nose dislodging Hiroki's glasses.

"No-ooo..." Hiroki's voice cracked embarrassingly in the middle of the syllable as Nowaki licked his cheek. "I don't have time. These are due on Friday."

"But it's only Tuesday."

"I'd like to finish them sooner rather than later."

"You work too hard, Hiro-san," Nowaki mumbled into his ear, hands working their way further up his shirt, to skate over his nipples.

"Right, that's it." Hiroki grabbed at the hands underneath his shirt and pulled them out. He swivelled around on his chair and stood quickly. Sharp eyes flicked to the corner of his desk where his tie had been unceremoniously deposited.

Still holding both of Nowaki's wrists, Hiroki grabbed the tie and began walking his partner backwards. Nowaki looked befuddled, but allowed Hiroki to do so.

When Nowaki's calves hit the back of their bed, it took only the tiniest push from Hiroki to tip him over. He scooted back immediately, sitting up on his elbows with a triumphant expression.

"I'd wipe that smug look off your face," Hiroki threatened, climbing onto the bed and straddling Nowaki high on his hips.

"Hiro-san--" Nowaki murmured, craning his neck to be kissed.

"Not a chance," Hiroki said, taking Nowaki's hands away from where they'd come to rest on his hips. With a dexterity and purpose of movement that surprised even himself, Hiroki raised Nowaki's arms above his head and secured Nowaki's wrists to the beamed headboard.

Nowaki's eyes were cloudy with confusion and desire. "Hiro-san?"

Hiroki finished tying the knot around Nowaki's wrists -- tight, but not so as to cut off the circulation -- and wiped imaginary dust from his hands. "This might teach you to be a bit less of a brat when I'm trying to work."

"I sincerely doubt it," Nowaki answered gravely.

Lips twitching with the faint beginnings of a smile, Hiroki ran his hands down Nowaki's firm biceps, prominent due to the position of his arms.

He began the movement forward to kiss Nowaki, before halting to take off his reading glasses.

"No," Nowaki said, and Hiroki paused. "Leave them on. Professor."

Hiroki smirked condescendingly, but pushed the brown frames back up the bridge of his nose. Nowaki's words and his gravelly voice were sending jolts of excitement down his spine.

Purposely missing Nowaki's lips, Hiroki instead went for his lightly stubbled cheek, giving his earlobe a brief suck. Nowaki gasped and hitched up off the mattress, but couldn't do much more than that.

Hiroki loved it.

He ran his hands down Nowaki's side, shimmying down Nowaki's legs as he did so. Fingers snagged the waistband of the pajama pants as he went, and Hiroki just pulled them down.

With that movement, Hiroki stood at the end of the bed, holding Nowaki's pajama pants in one hand. Nowaki watched him from the mattress, eyes hooded with desire, naked hips moving with delicious frustration.

Hiroki threw the pajama pants over his shoulder and put both hands on his hips, trying to decide what to do next.

It was then that the phone in the living area rang.

Nowaki gave Hiroki the most desperate, pleading look that had probably ever graced his handsome face.

Hiroki just smiled. "I'll be right back," he said wickedly, sauntering out of the bedroom to the tune of Nowaki's protests.

Chuckling to himself, Hiroki picked up the receiver on the end table by the couch, looking briefly at the number. The prefix suggested the call came from the University.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?"

Hiroki rolled his eyes. "At home, Professor," he answered. "Where you should be."

"Would that I could, my dear Kamijou. I thought you were going to help me grade papers tonight," Miyagi said.

"I was grading my own class's papers, but they're really not due until Friday." Hiroki wasn't all that successful at keeping the irritation out of his voice.

"Just like you to be so many days ahead on that project... but that's your freshman class; our combined post-graduate class's exams on Post-Modern Japanese authors are all due to be returned tomorrow so they can begin their new assessment."

Hiroki's brow furrowed. "But they're not due back until..." he walked over to the table and flicked through his desk calendar, "the 21st."

"The 21st? Where'd you get that from, Kamijou? This class needs them by the 12th."

"But," Hiroki stuttered. "But. That's tomorrow."

"This _is_ what I've been trying to tell you, you know," Miyagi said, speaking to him as though he were a small child or mentally infirm.

Hiroki squinted at the notation on the calendar. It was definitely his handwriting.

"I must've written the date down wrong," Hiroki muttered, beginning to pace.

"Don't dwell on that now. Come into the office. I've made a start, but it's a 40-strong class. With both of us it'll take far less time."

"Right. Right," Hiroki said distractedly, already slipping the shoes back on his feet and grabbing a jacket. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

***

Hiroki and Miyagi sat at opposite ends of a large writing desk, piles of exams between them. The only sound in the office was Miyagi's soft, off-key singing, and the whispery voices of felt-tipped pens on paper.

Slowly but surely, the pile of marked exams began to grow taller than the pile of unmarked ones. Hiroki breathed a sigh of relief as he graded his last exam. He looked up to see Miyagi on his last as well.

"Thanks for coming in, Kamijou," Miyagi said, shrewd eyes flicking over the paper in his hands expertly. "Would've taken much more than an hour without your help."

Hiroki grunted non-commitally, packing up his things. Miyagi grinned. "Anxious to get back to Tall, Dark and Scary, are you?"

Hiroki froze, a chill settling at the base of his spine.

_Nowaki_...

"Oh no," he groaned, grabbing his coat from the chair savagely.

"Where's the fire?" Miyagi asked.

"Gotta go. Emergency. See you tomorrow!" Hiroki gasped out, half-tripping over his own seat in his haste to get out the door.

***

Physically unable to wait for the train, Hiroki shelled out for a taxi to take him straight home. He ran the three flights of stairs up to their apartment, fumbling with the keys awkwardly as he tried to open the front door.

Hiroki surveyed the living room as he toed off his shoes and dropped his jacket and briefcase. All was just as he'd left it.

Mouth suddenly dry, Hiroki crept to the bedroom door and poked his head around the corner.

Nowaki was still there, of course. Naked as a jaybird, wrists tied to the headboard with Hiroki's tie. The only change was that in the intervening couple of hours his excitement had decreased significantly.

Nowaki looked up at him, dusky blue eyes piercing. Hiroki winced.

"Nowaki, I'm sorry, I--"

"I think," Nowaki interrupted, "you should untie me now."

Hiroki slowly walked to the bed and sat down, chewing on his lip contritely. He could tell Nowaki was staring at his face as he fumbled with the tie, but couldn't return the look.

Positive his cheeks were flaming red, Hiroki removed the tie and fiddled with it nervously. Nowaki sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed to sit next to Hiroki, rubbing his wrists.

"I forgot to mark some papers at the university," Hiroki muttered. "Got distracted and didn't even think--"

"Hiro-san," Nowaki said, placing a large hand on Hiroki's shoulder. Hiroki braced himself for the harsh words. Suddenly, Nowaki's lips were on his, kissing him sweetly. "It's ok."

Hiroki dropped the tie and wrapped his arms around Nowaki's neck immediately, kissing him with ardour. He was gratified and convinced he really was forgiven when he felt Nowaki's hands go under his shirt again. This time, however, he helped Nowaki pull it up off his head.

"What can I do to make it up to you?" Hiroki murmured, planting kisses across Nowaki's jaw.

Quicker than he was expecting, Hiroki found himself on his back, Nowaki straddling his hips. His partner held the offending tie.

"Nowaki...?"

The tie was pulled taut between Nowaki's hands, making an odd noise that sent a not entirely unpleasant thrill down Hiroki's backbone. Dark hair falling into his eyes, all Hiroki could see were two rows of grinning white teeth.

"Let's see how you like it."

~finis


End file.
